Black Poetry : A Hustlah's Lament...Part 2

[NittyGrit]

Lord, other thugs smoke dro
or drown their remorse in shots of Hen
but is there any restitution for us humble, sober men?
I can't afford the cost of rehab
so I get high of my sins

I need some kind of relief
I feel like dying 'cause I'm finding
aint no love in these streets. So I'm a lonely black sheep

not even my family can relate
I guess that's why my daddy keeps his distance
and my so-called "homeboys" stay away

but every time that I pray
I commit a crime of passion
I surrender to my cross, but God there's 1 thing I'm asking:

Can you save my fellow sinners
if they're scared of the church?
I've soaked the game up from the trap, so I know how bad they hurt
swing low sweet chariot and let my customers ride
and if you need a sacrifice Father I'll bury my pride

I'll survive the hottest summer
I'll brave the coldest winter
I'll poud the gates of heaven
just let my people in 'em

until then...
not a tear will I shed
I'd rather bleed from my war wounds
I'll post my pulpit on the corner and try to preach to all my goons

I won't get into a sermon
just believe me when I say
that my worship is for real
Ya'll....I know all about amazing grace.

 

[Da Street So'ja]

feeling your search

for the divine truth

peace poet

 

[watzinaname]

As the pain is purged, so may you find release, and relief. Intense write.

 

[$$RICH$$]

seem like i've been here .....feeling u fo real and the seeking power